25 Days of Whofic
by AllisonWonderland203
Summary: 25 short holiday-themed oneshots written for the 25 Days of Fic challenge over on tumblr. Various characters and pairings. Updated several times a week to keep up.
1. Mistletoe

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Obvs.**

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The Doctor had never really been a huge fan of Christmas decorations.

Of course, he had found them aesthetically pleasing, but he had never really taken to the whole idea of decorating, of spending all that time and energy on something that would only last a few short weeks, a time span that was mere blip in the entire scope of time and space. Granted, it was all very lovely; it was just highly impractical.

But now that he is part human, living in a house whose halls are proverbially decked with every type of trapping possible, he has begun to appreciate it in a new way. It isn't so much the act of decorating that matters, but the feeling it inspires. There is something to be said for the warmth of lights gleaming in windows, the glint of tinsel on a Christmas tree, the verdant swag of evergreen boughs on the mantle.

Yet his favorite part of the Christmas decorations, he decides, is the mistletoe. For, as he is finding out, a small sprig of the berried plant hung in a doorway is apparently inspiration enough for Rose Tyler to push him up against the doorframe and snog the life out of him.

"What was that for?" he asks when she pulls away, feeling a little more breathless than he would like to admit. "Don't get me wrong! It was lovely, just… unexpected."

"Mistletoe," she replies cheekily. "You're supposed to kiss someone if they're standing under it."

He glances upwards for the first time and sees the small sprig hanging above his head. So _that's _what that is there for. Interesting. The Doctor's mind kicks into gear. "And this is every time you meet someone beneath the mistletoe?"

"That's how it works."

"And," he continues, stepping closer to her, "correct me if I'm wrong, but hasn't Jackie hung this throughout the house?"

"Mm-hmm," Rose grins, her tongue poking out between her teeth.

"Last time I counted there were fifteen major doorways in this house."

"Well then," Rose says softly, tracing the line of his tie with a finger, "sounds like you'd better get busy."

He leans down to kiss her again, but she wriggles out of his grasp, darting a few steps away and laughing over her shoulder.

"Race you to the next one!"

Yes, the Doctor decides, Christmas decorations might be a bit of trouble, but when you think about it, they are absolutely worth it.


	2. Hot Chocolate

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

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Donna Noble couldn't sleep.

After everything that had happened this Christmas Day – her supposed-to-have-been wedding day – her mind was just too full and her heart too broken for her to even consider sleeping. Since the moment she'd stepped back inside her house after watching the Doctor disappear in his brilliant blue box, her hair sopping wet from melted snow and shivers shaking her body, the questions had not stopped.

_Where have you been? What happened? Where's Lance? What do you mean he's 'gone'? What about the wedding? Do you even know what scandal you caused? What are you going to do now? Are you listening to me? What. Are. You. Going. To. Do?_

She'd been lucky to escape her mother's inquisition mostly unscathed, but she hadn't been able to dodge the hurt in her father's eyes. She knew she'd let them down today, knew she was hurting them by not answering their questions, but how could she? There was no way to explain to them what had happened. The moment she started mentioning aliens and giant spiders she was sure they'd have her committed. After all, the truth was absolutely barmy, and if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn't have believed it.

But now, after taking some time to herself for well-deserved cry and a much-needed shower, Donna emerged from her bedroom to find that her family had all given up and gone to bed. Just as well, for it was nearly midnight and she really didn't feel like facing them again.

Quietly, she padded down the stairs in her pajamas and slippers, heading for the kitchen. Perhaps a cup of tea would help settle her down, calm her nerves if nothing else. She rounded the corner and was surprised to see a soft glow already emanating from the kitchen. She panicked for a moment, not knowing who else was up, and tiptoed closer, ready to run should it prove to be her mother. Donna poked her head around the doorway just enough to see who was there and immediately relaxed once she realized who it was.

"Gramps?" she asked, drawing her robe a bit tighter around her. "What're you doing up?"

"Just making a bit of hot cocoa," he smiled at her, waving the whisk in his right hand in the direction of a chair, gesturing for her to sit. "Didn't feel quite like sleep yet and wanted a little something hot before bed."

Donna pulled out a kitchen chair and propped her elbows on the tabletop, resting her chin in her hands. "Sounds good to me."

"Just the ticket on a cold night. And it's a shame to have Chirstmas without cocoa, innit?" Wilf turned away for a moment, turning off the stove and pulling two mugs out of a cupboard. He carefully filled them each with the steaming liquid and crossed the kitchen to take a seat across from her.

Donna took one of the mugs and sat it in front of her, wrapping her fingers around it to absorb its warmth. "Smells good."

"It's my secret recipe. Your grandmother always said I made the best hot chocolate of anyone she ever met. Said it was part of the reason she stayed with me all those years, bless her."

Donna chuckled with him, shaking her head.

"There we are," he grinned at her. "First real smile I've seen all day. And what a day it's been."

Her smile faded as his words hung between them. She heard the unspoken question in his statement, but couldn't quite bring herself to say anything. She wanted to be able to tell him, and she knew that out of everyone he would be the most likely to believe her, but she just couldn't. It was just too mad.

"Gramps…" she began. "A lot of things happened today – a lot of strange things – and I…"

"Hush," Wilf waved her off gently. "I know that you're not ready to talk about it just yet. And I know there's more to the story than you're letting on. But that's not important. When you're ready to talk about what happened, I hope that you'll tell me. I'll listen to you, sweetheart, but only when you want to share. Deal?"

Donna's eyes welled with tears and her throat grew thick as she tried to swallow them down. "Okay," she managed, voice cracking. "Thanks, Gramps."

"Anytime, my love," he reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

"Merry Christmas to you too, Gramps. Merry Christmas."

And for the first time, she actually believed that it was.

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**A/N: **It occurred to me that I may not be able to post here every day, so I wanted to give you the option of finding the fics as they become available on my blog, so you can check out my profile to grab that link, since it won't let me post it here.

Feel free to leave a review give a follow. :)


	3. Snow

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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They stumble back inside the TARDIS, red-cheeked and freezing and sweating all at the same time. Rose leans heavily against the closed door and Jack leans forward to brace his hands on his knees, breathing in deeply. The two of them glance at each other and burst into laughter.

"What's all this about then?" The Doctor calls to them from his place at the console, eyeing them carefully. He begins to wonder if it had been a good idea to let the two of them wander around without him while he stayed behind to rewire some loose connections in the TARDIS's mainframe. Even if they had only landed in the snowy middle of nowhere. Knowing Jack and Rose, there was no way to tell what sort of trouble they might have found themselves in. "What'd you run into out there? The Abominable Snowman?"

"You wish," Jack laughs, standing upright. "Nothing more than your everyday snowball fight, eh, Rose?"

"More like snowball massacre," she clarifies, pulling the knit cap off her head and shaking the excess snow off onto the floor.

"Oi! Watch it!" the Doctor shouts. "Don't drip all over the grating."

"Oh, calm down," Rose tuts, leaning down to unlace her heavy boots. "I'm not hurting anything."

"Don't listen to him, Rose," Jack intervenes with a smile. "He's just jealous that he missed all the fun."

"Fun?" the Doctor snorts. "You think lobbing freezing balls of ice crystals at each other is great fun? I've obviously been negligent in showing you two the finer places in the galaxy."

"Now, don't be a snob," Jack retorts, stuffing his gloves into his coat pockets. "Snow's actually quite fun, isn't it?"

"Quite right, Captain," Rose winked at him.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. He couldn't stand when the two of them got like this – all human and flirty and full of nonsense. This is exactly why he shouldn't let them off on their own. They get all wrapped up in their hormones and adrenaline and start acting all… infatuated. He's just about to start to start on the wires again when he notices Rose carrying her boots up the ramp and across the console room, dripping all the way.

"Ah!" he shouts at her, pointing. "Stop! Stop right there! What did I say about water on the grating?!"

"I'm sorry!" Rose protests, "but I have to take them to my room to dry!"

"But I told you not to track all over my TARDIS! Not while I'm doing repairs!"

"Doctorrrrrr!" Rose sighs, exasperatedly.

The two of them lock eyes, neither willing to give an inch. It's quite the standoff – the Doctor with his wires and sonic and Rose with her dripping boots still in hand. Truth be told though, he loves and hates this part of her personality, this stubbornness that spurs her to go toe-to-toe with him. There are few beings in the universe who dare to face him head on and, surprisingly, this nineteen year-old girl is one of them. This blonde human, with her cheeks flushed from frigid air and frustration and her hair slightly damp from the snowflakes that clung to her even in the warmth of the TARDIS. She is so very young and foolish and brave and absolutely the most astounding thing he has ever laid eyes on. For a moment, he wonders when he lost his hearts so completely to her, that he can go from being so absolutely annoyed with her to being in awe of her in simply a matter of moments.

He was never going to win this battle – never even had a change against her – and he was foolish to think otherwise.

"Fine," he caves, jerking his head towards the rooms of the TARDIS. "Just go quick!"

Rose nods and flashes him a brilliant smile before racing down the hall. "Thanks!"

The Doctor shakes his head at her, despite the fact that she can no longer see him. Silly human girl. Silly human girl with her blonde hair and big brown eyes and pink cheeks and white teeth and…

"Don't think I didn't see that."

The Doctor's head snaps back up. He'd forgotten that Jack was still in the room, standing over by the doors, hanging his coat on the rack. "Dunno what you're talking about," he says, dropping his eyes back to his work.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about," Jack repeats, walking up the ramp and joining him at the console, leaning against his with his arms crossed over his chest. "I saw the way you were looking at her."

"How else am I supposed to look at her?" he asks, playing dumb.

Jack frowns. "Doctor, I know that look. In fact, I've perfected that look. You're not fooling anyone here. Not me and certainly not Rose."

The Doctor falls silent again, dropping his eyes back to his work.

"She's not stupid," Jack says softly. "And she won't wait around for you forever."

"You so sure about that?" he asks, straightening back up and lifting his eyes to Jack's.

Jack shrugs. "Don't know." He grins. "But the real question is: do you want her to?"

The Doctor doesn't know how to answer that.

Satisfied, Jack claps him on the shoulder and leaves him alone with his thoughts. The Doctor sits heavily on the jumpseat, pondering Jack's words. He stares at the trail of snow that Rose has left across the room, the tiny white clumps melting into tiny puddles as they begin to evaporate. So fleeting, those snowflakes, lingering for but a moment, yet beautiful all the same.

His eyes follow the tracks that lead into the hall and it is only seconds before he traces the path himself, off to find his human companion before the trail disappears forever.


	4. Candy Cane

**Disclaimer: Still not mine. Neither _Doctor Who _nor the candy canes. **

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"Oh, honestly…" the Doctor grumbles under his breath.

Rose lifts her head from where it rests on his shoulder. "You say something?"

He shakes his head, surprised she even heard him over the drone of the television. "Not a word."

"Okay then." She settles back into his side, lifting the candy cane back to her lips.

The Doctor does his best to keep his eyes off her and on the movie they're watching (some holiday programme she absolutely _insisted _he had to see), but he has long since lost interest. Despite his best intentions, he is captivated by what she is doing to that candy cane. It's positively indecent, the way she's eating it, sucking it into her mouth and running her tongue over the cool peppermint until the little red lines start to disappear.

He doesn't know if Rose is even aware of what she's doing, but he's not about to draw attention to the fact that he's _noticed _how she's eating her candy cane. That could bring up more questions than he's willing to answer. After all, her actions could very well be innocent, leaving him and his dirty mind as the only culprits here. Besides, Rose wouldn't do this on purpose, would she? She'd never tease him like this… But then again, he doesn't know where the candy cane came from. He doesn't remember giving them to her or purchasing them anywhere. How, then, did these little instruments of torture even get on the TARDIS?

"Uh, Rose," he starts, scratching the back of his neck absently. "This may seem like an odd question but, uh, where did you get that candy cane?"

She removes the candy from her mouth with a wet pop. "From Mum. Gave 'em to me the last time we stopped home. She knows they're my favorite so she got me a whole box so I'd be sure to have enough to last me until Christmas."

"O-oh," his voice cracks. He nods furiously as he swallows and tries again. "Good. Good. Excellent. Good to know."

It's going to be a long holiday season.


	5. Christmas Tree

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

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Martha let herself into the darkness of her flat, dropping her shoulder bag by the door and kicking off her shoes somewhere in the direction of the closet. Navigating through the shadows, Martha flipped on the light in the kitchen and found her answerphone blinking with unheard messages. She sighed. Ten quid said the messages were all from her mum.

Somehow, in the craziness of her work schedule, she'd forgotten that she was supposed to be at her parents' tonight. Her whole family had been planning to put up the Christmas tree – something they had done every year since she was small – and she had completely forgotten. By the time she had remembered, it had been too late to even try to show up fashionably late. Martha couldn't believe that she'd forgotten. It's just that she'd just been so crazed with work lately that she hadn't been paying any attention to the calendar. She'd only just realized that it was December, and that Christmas was right around the corner.

But there was nothing she could do about it now. All she could do was move forward from here, and hope that her family – particularly her mother – would understand. Martha knew how important family time was to her mother; ever since the Year that Never Was, her mother had made a special effort to keep the family close together, especially around holidays. Martha could understand that, but she also knew that her mother was prone to taking things a bit too far sometimes, and making them a bit too personal. Either way, Martha turned away from the angry red light of the machine, unwilling to deal with all of that right now. Maybe after a shower and some dinner…

Unfortunately, she didn't even make it out of the kitchen before the telephone rang. Martha groaned and, fully expecting her mother to be on the other end, began piecing together an acceptable apology.

"Hello?"

"Oh, good. You're home," came another, unexpectedly male voice. "I was worried they were still holding you prisoner over at UNIT."

"Very funny, Mickey," she retorted. "You know, not all of us can be our own boss and go rogue."

"Hey now… it's not _rogue. _I prefer the term freelance consultant. And it's like I've been telling you – you need to quit that stuffy old place and come work with me."

"That will be the day," she teased, laughing. "But really, why are you calling me so late? Missed me already?"

"I've got a surprise for you," he said and she could practically hear the smile in his voice.

"Mickey…" she sighed. "Now's _really _not the time for games. I've had a _completely_ mad day and I'm not in the mood to deal with any alien sightings or…"

"No, no, no. It's nothing like that. Promise. It'll only take a minute, I swear."

"But…"

"What's the matter, Dr. Jones? Don't you trust me?"

Martha bit her lip. She hated when he called her Dr. Jones. And of course she trusted him. In the short time he'd worked for UNIT, she had seen what sort of man he was, which was why (she supposed) they had continued to stay in touch even after he'd quit, claiming that he wasn't cut out for UNIT's myriad rules and regulations.

"Yes," she said finally.

"Then come to your window," he said, a smile in his voice.

Martha frowned. "My window? What do you mean, come to the window?"

"So many questions! I thought you UNIT types were good at taking orders."

"Even better at giving them," she quipped, even as she walked towards her front windows. "What is it I'm supposed to be seeing?"

"Oh, you'll know it when you see it."

"I will? This had better not be a… trick…" her voice trailed off as she saw what she was meant to see. For there, standing just outside her building on the sidewalk, was Mickey – holding a huge evergreen tree.

"Well?" he asked, his voice in her ear even as she saw him before her. "What do you think?"

"You… you brought me a Christmas tree?"

"Yup," he gave it a little shake. "Thought I heard you say something today about missing out on plans with your family. Thought I might bring this over so you could have some fun of your own."

Martha couldn't keep the grin off of her face. "You are _completely _mad!"

"So I've been told," he laughed. "But you like it? I can bring it up?"

"Yes! Yes, of course! I'll meet you at the door."

Hanging up the phone, she rushed over to the door and held it open for him, watching as he hefted the tree up the steps and into her flat. The thing was monstrous, full and tall and taking up a sizable portion of her parlor, but it was beautiful.

"So?" Mickey asked, cocking his head and glancing at her. "Not bad, eh?"

"It's lovely," she said, beaming at him. "Absolutely lovely."

Mickey looked towards tree. "You sure? It's a bit big, but…"

"It's perfect," she assured him. "Thank you, Mickey."

"You're welcome," he said softly. "And, I was thinking, if you're up for it, what do you say I order us a pizza, you pull out some lights, and we decorate this bad boy ourselves? Have our own bit of Christmas right here?"

Martha nodded. "I say that sounds like the best idea I've heard all day."

Martha wasn't quite sure her thoughts were concerning Mickey Smith, but she knew that she was definitely interested in figuring it all out.

Who would have known that missing the family tree decorating hadn't been such a bad thing after all?


	6. Angel

**Dislcaimer: I still own nothing. If I did, there would definitely be more Tentoo x Rose. Just saying...**

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"Hold still!" Jackie cried, tugging on the hem of her son's costume. "It's never going to be finished if you keep wiggling about like that!"

Little Tony just smiled and beamed, trying his best not to fidget and mostly succeeding. "You like it?" he asked, directing his question to the Doctor and Rose who sat on the sofa in the Tylers' spacious living room, watching the entire scene with barely concealed amusement.

"It's lovely, Tony," Rose assured him. "Now just hold still while Mummy finishes it, okay?"

"What are you supposed to be again?" the Doctor asked, slipping on his glasses and leaning closer to inspect the costume, frowning a bit in mock confusion. At least, Rose hoped it was feigned confusion.

"I'm an angel! See!" Tony spread out his arms, simultaneously showcasing his white robe and slipping the hem out of Jackie's grasp.

"Stand still, I said!" Jackie reprimanded, her patience wearing thin.

Recognizing the warning tone of his mother's voice, Tony dropped his arms and did as he was told. "I'm the angel in our school's Christmas pageant."

"Oh, yes, of course," the Doctor nodded. "Brilliant. But tell me, what exactly does an angel do, then?"

"Nothing much," Tony shrugged. "I don't really say a lot. I do get to talk to the shepherds! I say, 'Don't be afraid! I bring you… I bring you…'" he trailed off.

"'Good tidings…'" Rose prompted. She'd spent the last week helping him with his lines, few as they were.

"'Good tidings of great joy!'"

"Speaking of good news… I think we're done!" Jackie sat back on her knees and looked at her son. "You're all set, mister."

"Hooray!" Tony leapt off the footstool he'd been standing on and rushed over to his sister and the Doctor. "See, see! Lookit my wings!"

"I see!" Rose smiled, inspecting the glittery cardboard he wore on his back. "Very important."

"You like it, Doctor?" he asked, seeking validation from everyone in the room.

"I think it's the best angel costume I've seen in a long time," he asserted. "Absolutely perfect for a school pageant."

"It's not so bad, if I say so myself. Looks just like the one I made for you, Rose, all those years ago," Jackie said, a wistful smile on her face.

"You were an angel too, Rose?" Tony turned back to her, his eyes wide.

"Yup, when I was your age. A looooong time ago," she smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair. Tony laughed.

"All right now, don't mess up his halo," Jackie interrupted. "Won't have all my work ruined in the first five minutes. Say, Tony, why don't you go and show your father your costume? I'm sure he'd love to see it too."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Tony took off like a shot, racing out of the room and down the hallway.

"I swear, that child is going to be the death of me…" Jackie grumbled, gathering her sewing kit and getting to her feet to follow after her precocious son, lest he decide that he might like to test out his angel wings by leaping off the staircase. "Tony! What have I said about running in the house!? Tony…!"

"Well… Someone's certainly excited," the Doctor remarked, shaking his head good-naturedly. He looked over at Rose, who had managed to have the decency to hold in her giggles until her mother had left the room. "You think he'll remember his part?"

"He'll be fine," Rose patted the Doctor's knee. "If not, he'll steal the show. He does look adorable in that costume…"

The Doctor smirked. "You know, I never quite understood your preoccupation with angels," he said.

"Why's that?" Rose asked, turning so she was facing him, her arm dangling along the back of the sofa so her fingers could just brush the hair at the back of his neck.

"I can understand the desire to have someone or something looking out for you, protecting you, but why would you want that thing to be some invisible, ethereal being hovering over you? In my experience, I'd much rather have someone tangible." He reached out and grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers together with hers. "My favorite sort of companion is one you can actually see and touch."

"Doctor," Rose looked at him with mischief in her eyes, a smile quirking her lips, "is this the part where you call me your guardian angel?"

He gave a small shrug. "Could be. Or, if you'd rather, we could just skip to the part where I express my gratitude for you being forever by my side," he wiggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed.

"I think I like the sound of that," she whispered, leaning in close and brushing her lips over his. "I've never been much of an angel, anyways."

"Perfect," he replied against her mouth, his hand drifting up, fingers curling around her hip as he traced the line of her nose with his. "I wouldn't have you any other way."


	7. Pie

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is this pie story. Because it really did happen to me... in a sense. With the failure and the tears and the flour everywhere. Anyway. Doctor Who isn't mine. **

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He comes home to a delightful smell wafting through their flat. He follows his nose to the kitchen, and receives a shock when he finds Rose sitting on the floor with her back against the cabinets, knees drawn up and her eyes red from crying.

"Rose?!" he's across the kitchen in moments, kneeling to crouch in front of her. Expecting her to be hurt, he frantically looks her over, trying to ascertain what has happened here. But aside from being covered in flour, she appears to be just fine. Well, obviously not _fine _fine, judging from her tears. Panic subsiding, he reaches out and wipes some flour off her cheek. "Hey, now… what's all this?"

"I'm so stupid," she sniffs.

He gently takes her chin and lifts her eyes, fixing her with a look. "Rose Tyler, if there's one thing in the universe that you're not, it's stupid. Tell me what happened."

She sighs heavily and drops her eyes down to her hands. "I tried to make a pie for you and now it's all ruined."

_Pie_, he thinks, relieved and a little amused. _All this for a pie_. He cannot fathom how a pie has reduced his Rose to tears, but then again, he remembers a time last week when he tried to make a soufflé for dinner and nearly burnt down the flat. Rose sniffs again and he remembers himself, and her current emotional trauma.

"Ruined? How?" he asks, glancing around for said dessert. "And what kind of pie?"

"I don't know. It's like I just did everything wrong. The dough wouldn't stretch, there wasn't enough filling, the bottom started to burn… The whole thing just looks shriveled and why does it even matter what kind? I already told you it's ruined! There's no way you could possibly _think _of eating it now!"

"Let me be the judge of that," he gives her a grin. "Where is it?"

"Over there," she gestures towards the other side of the kitchen. "I didn't want to look at it anymore."

"It can't really be all that bad," he starts, but the look on her face quickly silences him. "Will you at least show it to me?"

"I guess," she mumbles. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

"Deal." He stands and offers her a hand up, planting his feet squarely on the floor. She takes it willingly and lets him pull her up, landing on her toes with a little hop. The Doctor takes a seat at the kitchen table as she crosses to the opposite counter and turns back with the pie pan in her hands, the whole thing covered with a towel. She comes back and sets it on the table in front of him with a dull thump.

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Cross my heart," he promises.

"All right. You asked for it…" She removes the towel all at once, pulling it away

The Doctor blinks, taking it all in. She's right, the crust has shriveled halfway down the pan and it's a dark brown color, overdone but certainly not as burnt as she made it sound. All in all, it isn't as bad as she has led him to believe, but it's certainly not going to win any prizes either.

"I told you it was awful," Rose says petulantly. "All I wanted to do was make you a nice dessert. And look at this. It's horrible."

Without a word, he gets up and crosses to the drawer, pulls out a fork, and returns to the table. He pulls the pie pan close and digs right in.

"No…" Rose starts, "you don't have to… eat it…" she trails off as he shoves a forkful in his mouth.

He chews thoughtfully, purposely keeping his expression neutral as he finishes.

"Well?" she asks, biting her lip nervously.

He cocks his head to the side and debates making her sweat it out a few moments more, but decides that she's tortured herself enough already, today. He doesn't need to add to it.

"It's brilliant!" he beams at her. "Despite how it looks, it tastes exactly like an apple pie should – just the right amount of sweet and cinnamon. The crust's a bit overdone, I'll admit, but, Rose… it's not as bad as you think."

"You're putting me on," she says, crossing her arms over her body. "You don't have to spare my feelings."

"No, honest!" he protests. "I'm being serious. Here – try some!" He scoops up another bite and feeds it to her. Rose chews and he can see the surprise and shock flit across her features.

"Oh my god!" she exclaims, her mouth still half full. "You're right! How even…? When it looked so awful?"

"Never judge a book by its cover, Rose."

"Or a pie by its crust," she quips, smiling for the first time.

"That too," he amends, taking another bite for himself. "You know… I think you should fail at pie making more often."


	8. Tinsel

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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"Oh no, you don't!" Donna cried, marching over to where the Doctor stood and pointing at the box in his hands. "I will not let you put _that _on our Christmas tree!"

"But, Donna," the Doctor looked at her, confusion wrinkling his brow. "This is the best part!"

"No. No. Absolutely not," she crossed her arms. "I have said yes to everything else that you wanted to put on there. But _this _is where I draw the line."

The Doctor looked over his shoulder at the tree. It was quite busy, and she _had _dutifully helped him with all the other decorations – lights, garland, popcorn strings, candy canes, ribbons, ornaments. But he still didn't feel it was quite finished yet. "But, Donna, it's my tree. In _my_ TARDIS."

"Oi! I live here too, you know!" she protested, giving him a smack on the shoulder.

"I know, I know. Sorry," he ducked his head in apology. "But this is the first tree I've had on the TARDIS in years! And you said I could decorate it however I liked."

"I did, and I've let you do as you please. But it looks wonderful as it is and I don't think it needs anything else. Least of all _that,"_ she gestured to the box again.

"Oh, come on, Donna," he tried, lifting the lid off the box so she could see its shiny contents, hoping to entice her to agree with him. "Doesn't that look like the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? All silvery and Christmas-like?"

She took in the sight of his dancing eyes and childish excitement and knew that this was a battle she had no hope of winning. "You know what? Okay. Fine," she threw up her hands in defeat. "Go ahead. Put the tinsel on the tree. But you're the one who has to clean up the mess when all's said and done. Deal?"

"Deal!" he exclaimed, a wide smile breaking over his face. "Ha! _Molto bene_, Donna!"

Donna shook her head and took a seat on the sofa, watching as he immediately began to litter the tree with the shimmery silver filaments. He was right, it _was _pretty… she just hoped that in a few weeks' time she wouldn't have to listen to his whinging when it came time to pack everything up and he discovered that tinsel clung to every blessed thing it came into contact with.

It might take a little while, but there was moment coming when she, in all her humanness, could claim that she knew more than some ancient, know-it-all Time Lord, and Donna Noble was quite looking forward to it.


	9. Ice Skating

**Dislcaimer: I own nothing. Although, I think I'd like to own a pair of ice skates. Not that that really has anything to do with anything...**

* * *

"C'mon, Doctor!" Rose called over her shoulder. "We need to get going if we're going to beat the rush!"

The Doctor grudgingly followed her out of the TARDIS, taking care to lock the doors behind him as he stepped out into the busy street. Rose held out her hand to him and he took it, slipping his hand around her smaller one. It was warm, much warmer than the icy chill of the December wind around them, and he found that he quite enjoyed the feel of it.

"I can't believe you've never gone ice skating before," Rose grinned up at him as they walked down the sidewalk, mingling with the pedestrians, all bustling to get where they needed to be.

"Yes, well… we didn't have much ice on my planet, believe it or not. And I've never really seen the fun in _willingly _trekking out onto something so slippery and dangerous."

"Oh, stop being such a spoilsport," she tugged on his hand. "Don't worry. I'll be right there beside you."

The Doctor gave a non-committal hum in the back of his throat. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing, or quite why he'd agreed to bring her here. Rose had mentioned a while back that she'd always wanted to go ice skating in New York at Christmastime and he'd thought it might be nice to give her the chance to do that. What he hadn't bargained on was the fact that she was going to drag _him _along on this venture as well.

They rounded a corner off of 49th Street and came into Rockefeller Center. At the sight of it, Rose immediately squealed in excitement and jumped up and down a little.

"Oh, look at it!" she cried, pressing nearer to him, her cheek rubbing up against the leather of his jacket. "Just look at that Christmas tree! It's there! And it's real! It's really real!"

"Of course it's real," the Doctor said, a funny sort of smile on his face. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"It's just that I've seen it on the telly for years and years but I've never _seen _it before. Isn't it wonderful, Doctor?"

He smiled at her, her exuberance fueling his own. "It's fantastic, Rose. Shall we?"

With her hand still held in his, he ran with her over to the ice rink. Once there, Rose took care of renting skates and (after some difficulty in finding him an appropriate size) helped him lace his up correctly before slipping on her own.

"This is going to be so much fun! I can't remember the last time I went ice skating," she beamed, getting to her feet. "Let's go!"

Clinging to Rose's hand, he allowed her to lead him over to the edge of the ice rink, the skates forcing him to take awkward little steps. Far sooner than he would have liked, she let go of his hand and carefully stepped onto the ice, smoothly gliding onto it as if she'd been born knowing how to it. She grinned at him and waved for him to join her.

"Well? What are you waiting for?"

Right, then. He could do this. Nine hundred years old. Lifetimes of experience. How hard could ice skating possibly be?

Grasping the railing, he carefully stepped out onto the ice. Almost immediately, he began to slip and he flung his other hand out to grip the side of the rink, holding on for dear life in an effort to remain upright.

"It's okay!" Rose was at his side in an instant, her hand on his arm. "It's okay. You're doing fine."

"Fine? Rose Tyler, this is not fine," he glared at her, feeling more foolish by the second. His feet were going to give out any second and leave him flat on his bum. He wasn't about to have that, to embarrass himself with all of these people watching. With _Rose_ watching.

"I promise, you're fine," she said, ignoring his pouting and giving him a reassuring smile. "Now all you have to do is push off a little with each foot. One and then the other."

"I think I'm fine right here," he grumbled, leaning into the railing, his skates slipping a bit on the treacherous ice.

"All right. Suit yourself," Rose shrugged, beginning to skate away. "Let me know when you're ready!"

He watched as she glided away from him, making a loop around the rink. She weaved in and out of the other skaters, the ends of her scarf trailing behind her. She made it look so easy, so effortless, and he had never felt like more of an old man next to her. He wasn't cut out for any of this, wasn't the young and agile companion she needed. But he so longed to be next to her, holding her hand and skating light of the largest Christmas tree on the planet.

She soon made her way back and came to a stop beside him. "Ready to give it a go?"

"I don't want to fall," he grumped. "And these skates are not cooperating."

She smiled gently at him and held out her hands for him. "Don't worry, Doctor. I won't let you fall."

"You'd better not," he replied, hoping his voice didn't betray how absolutely nervous he felt.

"I promise," she said, meeting his eyes. "Trust me."

He looked dubiously at her hands, then up at her face. She continued to smile, urging him with her eyes to reach out and take her hand. He swallowed hard. He didn't want to look foolish in her eyes, but neither did he want to be thought of as a coward. But she wouldn't let him fall, his Rose. She had proved time and again to be worthy of his trust. She would not let him down now.

So, placing his trust in the hands of a nineteen year-old girl, he let go of what he knew to be safe and gave himself over to her.

Sure enough, she didn't let him fall.


	10. Frost

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: Sorry this is a day late. I have not written about the Ponds yet, so this little double-drabble is my first attempt. Enjoy.**

* * *

She knew that sound. Knew it anywhere. Without a second thought, she was out front door, stumbling into the night. She looked up and down the street, the cold turning her breath to frost.

But there was nothing to see. Just the snowflakes falling soundlessly to the ground below.

"Amy? Amy, what's wrong?" Rory appeared at her side, bewildered.

"It's… Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" he shook his head. "I don't hear anything."

"The TARDIS. It sounded like… like the TARDIS."

"Amy…" he sighed, his breath forming an icy cloud in the air. "Come back inside."

"But I swear I…"

"I know. I know. It's freezing out here," he shivered. "Let's just… go back inside."

"But what if it's him, Rory?" she turned back to him, desperation in her voice. "What if he's come back? He came by last Christmas. Maybe he's here now…"

"And maybe he's not," Rory said gently, reaching out for her. "I know. I miss him too."

Sudden tears pricked her eyes, burning hot against the chill of the night. She turned to her husband and stepped into his arms, wrapping her arms around him as she cried into his chest, ignoring the chill biting their skin.

She had been wrong. Again. It wasn't him. It was never him.

She wondered if it ever would be.


	11. Eggnog

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: I don't know why I can't write Ten and Donna without dragging at least a bit of angst into it. Sorry these past few days have been a bit sad. Must be my muse is in a mood.**

* * *

"You know, I don't usually like eggnog, but this is _good,_" the Doctor enthused, taking another sip of his drink. "What'd you put in here?"

"Secret family recipe," Donna winked at him from the opposite end of the sofa, settling in with her own glass to watch the rest of the film. They had been halfway through _White Christmas_ when Donna had slipped away to refill their glasses, insisting that it made everything much more festive. If not, it certainly made things a bit more fun.

"This is nice," the Doctor beamed at her. "Eggnog. Christmas movies. Friends. I never used to celebrate Christmas, you know that? Didn't have Christmas on Gallifrey."

"I sort of assumed that," Donna shrugged.

The Doctor ignored her jibe and carried on. "But then I came to Earth and saw how much you humans just _love _this holiday. Oh, I have seen some fantastic holidays throughout the universe, but I have never seen anything like Christmas on Earth. All the families and the love and the food and the drinks! …Have I mentioned how good this is?"

"Once or twice," Donna smiled at him, enjoying this more relaxed, chattier (if that were even possible) version of the Doctor. Perhaps she'd have to spike his drinks more often.

"There's just this… warmth I feel about Christmas. All festivities and fun. I think we're going to have a brilliant Christmas this year, Donna. Make up for the past few years. You know… now that I mention it… my past few Christmases have been sort of awful."

"What do you mean?" Donna cocked her head and looked at him, ignoring the sound Bing Crosby crooning at them from the television screen and focusing on the sudden change in the Doctor's mood. "I thought you said you  
loved Christmas?"

"I do! It's just… last year I was alone. Well, not alone. I had Christmas on the Titanic."

"Hold on a minute, I thought that was when you met my granddad? When he had his newsstand."

"Well, yes, but, in my defense, I didn't know it was your granddad. But at the time I was travelling alone. Same with the year before that - spent Christmas alone."

"But… that would have been the Christmas I first met you. You were with me, spaceman!" Donna protested. "My wedding? Remember?"

"Of course I do! And now that I remember, you spent the whole day yelling at me! Imagine – yelling at someone on Christmas," he mused, contemplating whilst taking another gulp of his eggnog.

"Not the whole day," Donna mumbled into her eggnog. "To be fair, I was having a bad day myself..."

"That's not what I meant, though," he sighed. "At the time of all those Christmases I was _travelling _alone. I had no one to share the day with. It wasn't like before, like with… like when I was with Rose and her family for Christmas."

Donna nodded slowly. So that's what was really bothering him. She wondered if Christmas truly brought these feelings out in him or it was the alcohol she'd put in his drink making him a bit melancholy. Perhaps it was a bit of both. She instantly regretted mixing the eggnog without telling him and wished there were something she could do to perk him back up.

"I know what it's like to face the holidays without those you love," she said gently, "but now that I'm here, I promise you won't have to spend another Christmas alone, Doctor."

"You can't promise forever," he grew quiet, running his fingertip over the rim of his cup. "No one can."

Donna bit her lip. He was being more stubborn than she'd anticipated. "Well, tell you what then," she sat forward, capturing his attention. "I plan to stick around for a good long time, however long that is, and as long as I'm around, you won't have to be sad on Christmas anymore. No one should be lonely on Christmas."

He smiled at her then, his eyes crinkling a bit at the edges, showing that he was genuinely pleased. "You are the best friend I could have asked for, Donna Noble."

"Oh, stop, you…"

"…Even if you do slip bourbon into my eggnog."

Donna's eyes shot over to the Doctor as he drank the remainder of his eggnog, grinning at her teasingly as he set the glass aside.

"Secret family recipe – a pinch of cinnamon, a dash of nutmeg, and a splash of bourbon. Although, wherever you found it is a mystery… You haven't got some sort of secret stash on the TARDIS, now have you?" he glanced at her sidelong.

Donna sank back into the couch and took a long sip from her glass, turning her attention back to the television. "Hush now, spaceman. This is my favorite part of the movie."


	12. Cider

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A/N: This is a companion piece to _Eggnog._**

* * *

"Here we are then. Two cups of steaming hot cider. Perfect treat for a snowy winter's night."

Donna smiled at her husband as he entered the room, two steaming mugs in hand. He crossed to the sofa and handed one to her. She took it gratefully and immediately lifted the mug to her nose to inhale the spicy sweet smell of the cider.

"Mm. Lovely. What's in it?"

"Secret family recipe," Shaun whispered conspiratorially, winking at her.

Donna froze at his words, an eerie sense of déjà vu sweeping over her. Inexplicably, she felt as though she had been here before. Here, and yet not here. On another sofa, at another Christmastime, with another man drinking another drink and smiling and laughing.

But who? And when? And how?

Last Christmas, she had been with Shaun and her mum and grandfather. That she remembered quite clearly. The Christmas before had been nothing worth noting, and then one before that had been her failed wedding, a day she didn't much care to remember. Not that she usually spent much time dwelling on it. The details of that day were fuzzy at best; she often felt as though there were whole parts of it she couldn't quite remember, but then – to be fair – she _had _overdone the alcohol a bit that day, what with the way everything turned out, with Lance leaving her at the altar…

But back to the matter – or memory – at hand. Where had it come from? And why couldn't she quite recall it? This wasn't the first time she had had trouble remembering things and, truthfully, it frightened her a bit.

"Donna…?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice. Shaun reached out and placed a hand on her leg, gently reassuring her. "What's wrong, love? You look like you're a million miles away."

"I dunno," she shook her head. "I just… I just had the oddest feeling. Like… like we've done this before."

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning a bit.

"It's hard to explain," she shrugged, turning at bit towards him. "This all seems so familiar. Warm drinks. Sitting here on the sofa. A Christmas movie."

"Well, we did watch _Elf _last week," Shaun supplied, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And I think I made tea."

Donna shook her head. "No, not like that. I mean… it was the _exact _same scenario. Same movie and everything. Except I know I wasn't with you."

"No? You been watching Christmas movies with other men, Mrs. Temple-Noble?"

"Oi!" she gave him a playful shove. "You know better than that!"

"I know, I know," he soothed, scooting closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer and drop a kiss on top of her head. "Don't fret about it so much. I'm sure it's nothing. We all get déjà vu sometimes."

"Yeah, you're probably right," she sighed softly. "It just felt so _real _for a moment there. So warm and happy…"

"We have that right here," her husband replied, squeezing her shoulder. "And better than any memory. What we have is real."

"Yeah," she agreed, smiling at him, and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

Shaun returned her smile. "Now then – ready for some _White Christmas?_"

"Always."

While he fumbled with the remote, Donna took a sip of her cider and leaned her head on his shoulder, snuggling into his side. He was right, of course. In the end, it wasn't important whether or not she could recall something that may or may not have happened in the past. She was happy in the present, right here and now, and that's all that really mattered.


	13. Peppermint

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

"This isn't how I envisioned spending my first holiday as a human," the Doctor moaned, blowing his nose yet again before accepting the steaming cup of peppermint tea Rose had brought him.

"I know," she soothed, running a hand over his forehead, feeling for a fever and finding his skin still a bit warmer than usual. "But it doesn't seem like anything serious. Just a case of the flu. You should be better by Christmas, though. That's something to look forward to."

"I suppose," he pouted, sipping at his tea. The Doctor frowned and made a face. "I can't even taste this tea. Rose, are you sure it's the peppermint kind?"

"I'm sure. Double checked to make sure it's the brand you like."

"Hmm," he grumped, taking another sip, despite the fact that he was unable to taste the cool flavor of the mint. "Being sick is awful. This never happened when I was a Time Lord."

Rose smiled at him sympathetically. "You know what else you never had when you were a Time Lord?"

"What?"

"Me. Taking care of you, bringing you your favorite tea, tucking you up with blankets and nursing you back to heath."

"Yeah," he conceded with a sniff. "I guess you're right… Though, I'd much rather be well and have you by my side."

"I know. But you'll be back on your feet, ready for adventures before long. Don't you worry. But for now, you need your rest. Here…" Rose carefully took the half-empty mug from his and set it on the bedside table before pulling the blankets up over him as he got settled once more.

"Thanks, Rose," he mumbled, burrowing further down into the blankets. "You're too good to me."

"Nah, you'd do the same for me," she said, smoothing his hair back from his face. "Remember that time we thought I'd caught the flu after our trip to 1920?"

"How could I forget?" he grinned. "I'd never seen or heard anyone so miserable in my entire life. And that's saying a lot."

"Watch it," she teased. "It's a good thing you're sick or I'd give you a smack for a cheeky comment like that."

"Save it for when I'm better," he yawned. "I'm all of a sudden sleepy, Rose."

"That happens when you're sick. Rest now," she leaned in and placed a kiss on his forehead. "I'll be here when you wake up."

He hummed in response. "Will you bring me more peppermint tea?"

"Of course, Doctor. Of course."


	14. Gingerbread

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even a gingerbread house.**

**A/N: More Tentoo x Rose fluff. Can't help it. It's my go-to.**

* * *

It's quiet. Too quiet, Rose thinks as she walks through the front door of their flat.

Today was the day they had agreed to watch Tony so her parents could go out Christmas shopping. They'd had the day planned, but when Rose had unexpectedly gotten called in to work, the Doctor had offered to stay with him, claiming that he and Tony would get along just fine. She'd only been gone a few hours (apparently the "emergency" she had been called in for had been nothing more than a malfunction in the scanner, not a large-scale impending alien attack), and had expected to return to the usual chaos and disorder that usually accompanied the Doctor and Tony. They were quite a pair, and Rose often wondered who was worse – her five year-old brother or her 905 year-old lover.

Yet the silence she is greeted with causes her some concern. She wonders if perhaps they have gone out. Maybe they've left a note…? She is tugging off her boots when, all of a sudden, there is a set of arms wrapped around her waist from behind, the press and warmth of a body up against hers.

"Rose! You're home!" Tony cries gleefully, squeezing her tighter.

"I am!" she says, wobbling a bit as she kicks off her last boot. She disentangles herself from her little brother enough to turn and see him. "How've you and the Doctor been here at home?"

"Great! Come see what we made!" He grabs her hand and leads her through the flat, back towards the kitchen. For a moment, she worries about what she's about to see. Her mind flits to a time when she let Tony and the Doctor bake a cake for her mum's birthday party unsupervised. It had taken _weeks_ to get all of the frosting off the ceiling.

Tony pulls her into the kitchen and, for once, she is pleasantly surprised. Rather than the mess she expected to find, there is a large, unadorned gingerbread house sitting in the middle of the table surrounded by various bowls of candies and frostings. The Doctor leans against the counter and smiles when he sees her. She gives him a curious look and he gestures with his eyes over at the table and back to Tony. She winks at him and turns her attention back to her brother.

"What's all this then?" she asks, walking to the table and setting her tote bag aside in an empty chair.

"It's a gingerbread house. For you, Rose. I told the Doctor how you and me make 'em every year, and he said we should make. To surprise you for when you got home."

"Well, I think that was a lovely idea," she says, pulling him in for another hug, kissing the top of his blonde head. "Thank you."

"Can we decorate it now?!" Tony asks, looking from Rose to the Doctor and back, seeking out who will give him the answer the fastest.

"I'm ready if you're ready," the Doctor nods, giving a wiggle of his eyebrows which makes Tony giggle.

"Well, who am I to stand in our way?" Rose shrugs exaggeratedly. "Let's do it!"

"Yes!" Tony leaps in the air, clapping his hands excitedly. While he clambers up to sit at the table, Rose crosses to the Doctor.

"Welcome home," he says, giving her a quick peck on the lips. "What was going on at Torchwood?"

"Nothing serious," she shakes her head, turning so she stands beside him, back resting against the edge of the counter. "I'll tell you later. Looks like you've had a busy morning yourself."

"Kept us both out of trouble," he grins. "And gave me an excuse to make gingerbread. Haven't done that in _years._ Tony loved it too."

"I can tell," she smiles at Tony, who is already inspecting the candies, determining which ones will go best where. She turns back to the Doctor and rises up on her toes to kiss him again. "Thank you. I promise I'll make it up to you."

"I was going to say, there's nothing to be made up for, but as long as you're offering…" He winks at her and wiggles his eyebrows again, this time implying something distinctly different, something that makes her feel all warm and fluttery inside.

"Save it," Rose bumps his hip with hers.

"Come on!" Tony calls out to them, having turned in his chair to fix them with a look. "You said we could start."

"And start we shall!" the Doctor announces, striding over to the table. Rose follows suit and they each take a seat at Tony's side.

"Now then," the Doctor says in a voice that she remembers, a voice that always signified the beginning of a mad adventure, a voice that still sends a shiver of excitement through her, even now, even if the impending adventure is nothing more than decorating a gingerbread house on a Saturday morning. "Where shall we begin?"


	15. Present

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing.**

**A/N: A short double-drabble for today. Exactly 200 words in Word. I hope to catch back up with daily postings soon. :)**

* * *

It's difficult, living with timelines that never match up, never knowing where or _when _they will meet, and if they will be on equal or opposite Time. They seem to be rubbish at everything – birthdays, anniversaries, holidays.

This time, when they meet, it is in the snow. It catches in her hair, tiny white flakes trapping in her curls and eyelashes. For her, it is December, and she thinks of Christmas, a holiday she has not celebrated in years.

"Here," she hands him a small box wrapped in a shimmering shade of familiar blue. "I don't know if I'll see you again before the holidays, so... Merry Christmas, Doctor."

He takes the present, turns it over in his hands. Without a word, he sets it aside. She frowns.

"You don't like it? You haven't even opened it."

Foregoing words for action, he takes her hand and pulls her closer, wrapping his arms about her. Silent still, he dips his head and presses a kiss to her lips, causing her to sigh in pleasure. She has missed this. After, he brings their foreheads together and tenderly cups her cheek.

"Don't need it," he whispers. "_You_ are the only present I need."


	16. Fireplace

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except what comes out of my head at all hours of the night.**

* * *

"Come on. Just a little bit further now."

Rose clings tightly to his hand, allowing him to lead her where he will. They're in the TARDIS, she knows that, but exactly where… well, that's what the blindfold is for.

"Doctor, this isn't what I pictured when you said you had a surprise for me."

"Oh, stop complaining," he tuts at her. "We're almost there."

She dutifully follows, taking small steps that force him to clip his strides a bit. He's so tall in this new body, taller than before. "Where here?"

He sighs. "If I told you that, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"

"The surprise itself is enough of a surprise! I have no idea what you could possibly have to show me." She isn't quite sure of this new Doctor yet, this Doctor who showed up and saved Christmas and is the same and yet not the same. She knows that he hasn't really changed, but she still misses _her _Doctor, with his wide grin and daft face and ears.

"Well, Rose Tyler," he says, her name rolling off his tongue as easily as it always has, "You're in luck. Wait no more."

She hears a door open and he tugs her forward a bit before stepping behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and walking her forward a few paces. The room feels warm and comfortable and she's still not sure where they are. She's not sure she's ever been in this room in the TARDIS, but then again, it's so huge in here, she's sure there are whole corridors and wings that she has yet to discover.

"Here now. Ready for your surprise?" he asks from behind her, his lips close to her ear. She can feel his breath stirring her hair and tamps down a shiver.

"Ready," she nods, finding her voice shakier than she hoped it would be.

"All right." She can hear the excitement in his voice and feel his fingers fumbling with the knot at the back of her head that holds the blindfold in place. "Take a look!"

He pulls the blindfold away and Rose blinks, eyes adjusting to the room. Looking around, she's sure she's never seen this parlor-like room before – one particular feature of the room clues her in to that fact – but she is delighted all the same by the sight of it.

"A fireplace?!" she exclaims.

"You like it?" the Doctor asks, hands in his pockets, curiously studying her expression.

"Oh, I love it!" she rushes forward, running her hand over the mantelpiece, delighted at the warmth of the fire that blazes in the grate. "I didn't know you had a fireplace on the TARDIS."

"I haven't always," he admits. "It's a… recent addition."

Rose looks back up at him, questions in her eyes. "What? Then when…?" A snippet of a conversation they'd had recently floats to the surface of her mind. Suddenly, she knows. "You did this for me? After what I said the other day?"

"You mentioned how you'd always wanted a house with a fireplace, especially at Christmastime. How cozy you thought they were." He shrugs, running his hand through his hair. His hair. He has hair now. Great hair. "I know it's a little late to hang up stockings, but I still thought… Well… the TARDIS is your home now… as much as it is mine and… I figured I could make that wish come true."

Her heart swells a little at his awkwardness. He's still unsure, as she is, how things are between them, how things are _to be_ between them. In this moment, she sees her Doctor standing there all flustered telling her how beautiful she is (for a human), sees her Doctor as he holds out his hand for her to take it in the elevator of a space satellite, sees her Doctor as he smiles and laughs and holds his arms out to her for a hug and everything falls into place. He is the same man he has always been and always will be. However he may look or sound, he is still the Doctor and she still loves him for who he is, for what he has done for her, and what he will continue to do.

"It's perfect," she assures him with a smile, crossing the room to throw her arms around him. "Thank you so much."

Without hesitation, he hugs her back, gleefully wrapping his arms around her and lifting her up off the floor. She holds onto him and smiles into his shoulder. When he sets her back down, she pulls away to find him giddy and grinning, like the proverbial child on Christmas morning.

"So, then… What do you say I get some tea for us? We can sit and watch the fire and pretend that we haven't just has real Christmas at your mum's."

Rose nods and beams at him, his enthusiasm catching and sparking in her veins. "I think that sounds like everything I ever wanted."


	17. Socks

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: This one's rated T. Just a little bit racier than I usually write. Nothing explicit, but thought you might want to know. **

* * *

The Doctor is already in bed by the time Rose finishes her shower. It had been rather late when she'd gone into the bathroom, and he'd decided to spend a few minutes reading (some novel or other he'd found on one of her shelves) before she joins him to go to sleep. He looks up when he hears the sound of bathroom door opening. Light spills out, framing the silhouette of her body in the doorway for a fleeting few seconds before she turns it off, leaving the room in comfortable dimness once more.

He only caught a glimpse of her in the light, but it was enough to reveal to him that she is wearing nothing more than but one of his t-shirts and a fuzzy pair of red and white striped Christmas socks. His eyes follow her as she crosses the room. He wants to speak, say something witty about her lack of proper pajamas, but finds his mouth suddenly dry. Not for the first time, she has rendered him speechless.

She hardly seems to notice though, even as she climbs into bed beside him. Rather than scooting beneath the covers and curling up next to him (as per usual), she mirrors his current position, propping some pillows up and sitting with her back to the headboard. She smiles fleetingly at him but says nothing. Rather, she draws her knees up and rests novel of her own against her thighs as she begins to read.

The Doctor is dumbfounded. He tries his best to remain interested in his book, but it's a lost cause. He continues to sneak quick glances at her, trying to ascertain if she really _is _wearing anything besides the shirt and those socks and how best to determine that fact. He doesn't want to be obvious, but he can't seem to tear his eyes away from the sight of her – all long legs and exposed flesh.

"Everything okay?" she asks without preamble. His eyes dart up to meet hers and he knows at once that he's been caught staring.

"N-nothing. I was just… admiring your choice of footwear."

Rose cocks an eyebrow at him. "Yeah? What about them?"

"They're just… What I mean to say is… They're nice," he finishes lamely.

"You think so?" she asks, stretching out her legs and wiggling her toes. "I love 'em. Nice and warm. And just the right amount of festive. Don't you think?"

"Mm," he hums his approval, nodding furiously. "Very Christmas-y."

Several moments pass and they lapse into silence. The Doctor tries his best to focus on his book and off of Rose, but finds it increasingly difficult to do so. His eyes remain fixed on the page, but he can't keep his mind off of Rose. Rose wearing those socks, _only _those socks. Rose lying beneath him, the touch of her skin, the taste of her mouth. Rose arching, gasping, _coming…_

With a sigh, he takes off his glasses and rubs at his eyes, setting his book on the bedside table and slumping down against his pillow in quiet frustration.

"Doctor?" she asks softly.

"Hmm?"

"You all right?"

He is most certainly not _all right, _he thinks, wondering if she has noticed his arousal or if it is hidden by the duvet. "I'm just… tired."

"Oh," her voice is soft and he thinks he might have heard a touch of disappointment.

"…Why do you ask?" he ventures, glancing up at her.

"No reason," she gives a small half-shrug, setting her own book aside. "I was just thinking… I'm not sleepy just yet. And if, say, you weren't either… I thought that maybe we could…?"

She gestures vaguely with one hand and it's all the invitation he needs.

He rolls towards her, pulling her towards him by her hips and covering her body with his own. She giggles and threads her fingers through his hair as he kisses her, his lips and tongue moving from her mouth to her jaw, down the line of her neck and into the hollow of her throat. She arches up against him, just like he imagined she would, and brings her knees up alongside his hips, fitting her sock-clad feet over his calves. He gives a small groan at the soft feel of the fuzzy material against his skin. It doesn't escape her knowledge.

"Like the socks, then?"

"Love the socks," he asserts, his fingers already fumbling with the buttons of her shirt, ever in a hurry to rid her, then himself, of clothing. She moves her hands to help, but he playfully bats them away. He can handle this on his own. She's teased him enough already; he wants a turn now. Her shirt is the first to go, followed by her knickers, and his shirt, pajama trousers, and pants.

He leaves the socks on though.


	18. Cookies

**Disclaimer: Still not mine.**

* * *

"What're you up to?" Rose asked as she bounded into the console room.

Quickly, the Doctor stood up from the jump seat, whirling around to look at her. "Nufffin…" he spoke around an obviously full mouth, chewing furiously.

She watched as he tried to discreetly brush off the crumbs that littered his trousers. Rose narrowed her eyes at him and, taking in the scene, discovered the bright red cookie tin that had been sitting right next to him.

"Doctor," she started. "Have you been into those Christmas cookies my mum sent?"

"What…? Rose… I… Define 'into.'"

"I mean, have you been eating cookies in here all afternoon?"

"Well," he swallowed, clearing his throat. "First of all, time is relative, especially here in the TARDIS, and when you say 'this afternoon,' I think what you really mean is…"

"What I really mean is, have you been eating all of _our _cookies without _me?_"

"You see, Rose, I, um… Yes?" he answered, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"_Doctor,_" she whined, sending him a look. "Mum specifically gave them to both of us! To share."

"Right… sharing," he stammered.

"Whatever," she waved a hand at him, reaching for the tin and starting to pull off the lid. "I suppose it's all right. I mean, I understand. As long as you left me at least… one."

She looked from the cookie tin up to his face and back to the tin in disbelief.

The Doctor ducked his head. "I, er… may have just… eaten… the last one."

"You ate _all_ of them?!" she exclaimed. "You couldn't have left me even _one_ of them?!"

"I'm sorry!" he protested. "I lost track of how many I had eaten! But it's not like we can't go back and get more. I mean it. If you want, I'll take you back right now and we can explain to her what happened and I'll tell her how awful I am and get a whole new batch just for you. What do you say? Rose?"

"No, it's okay…" she sighed, sounding more than a little dejected. "Were they good, at least?"

He nodded, at least having the decency to look sheepish. "They were delicious. Brilliant. Fantastic, even."

"Were they now?" she nodded slowly, stepping up close to him.

The Doctor gave her a sort of half-grin, hoping she knew how sorry he really did feel about eating all of them. He was about to apologize again when, without warning, Rose suddenly reached up and grabbed his lapels, pulling him in, and kissed him. Surprised, he stiffened for a moment before relaxing, enjoying the press of her lips against his. The kiss proved to short as it had been sudden and she began to pull away, but not before running her tongue along his lower lip, tasting the frosting that lingered there.

As he fought to control the beating of his hearts, she had the cheek to grin at him, her devious little tongue poking out of her teeth.

"You're right… Those _were _some delectable cookies."


	19. Santa

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

He has seen many things in his nine hundred years.

Sunrises and sunsets. Deserts and forests and flowers and mountains.

Skies and stars and constellations and planets and supernovas and galaxies upon galaxies swirling in the cosmos.

But nothing, _nothing _compares to seeing the smile on young Rose Tyler's face when she finds a bright red bike beneath her Christmas tree.

She shrieks delightedly and claps her hands, jumping up and down in the way that twelve year-old girls do. She hugs her mother –_ He did it, Mum! He did it! Father Christmas came just like you said he would! – _and Jackie can only stare in wonder. She has no idea how the bike appeared, but she is unwilling to question it. Tears in her eyes, she stares at the unfamiliar writing on the tag: _To Rose. Love, Santa. _

He watches as she drags the bike out of the flat and down the stairs, eager to give it a test run. She rides up and down the street, a face tipped up towards the gently falling snow, blonde hair billowing behind her as she lets out a whoop of joy this Christmas morning.

He smiles. She is happy here - happy and young and alive and fantastic. He lingers for a moment more before turning back to where the TARDIS waits. Inside, _his_ Rose sleeps, completely unaware of what he has just done.

Thanks to him, she will no longer remember the Christmas when she was twelve as the worst Christmas ever, as the year they had nothing beneath the tree, not even the bike she'd so desperately wanted but been too afraid to ask for because Mickey had said that she was too old to still believe in Father Christmas and it would have been stupid to think he'd bring her something.

No. From now on, she will remember nothing but this moment – the joy and the wonder and the belief that Father Christmas really _does _know and care for her.

He knows the danger in what he has done here, the delicate nature of changing her timeline, but the absolute joy in the smile on her face tells him that he has done the right thing. He can feel it in his hearts.

He would do anything for her, his pink and yellow human. Anything at all.

The blessing and the curse is that she will never know.


	20. Sled

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

Four days before Christmas, they get their first proper snowfall of the year. It comes in the night, leaving a thick six-inch blanket of white over the ground. Schools close and (since it's a Friday anyway) many people call into work, saying it's not worth it to brave the slick traffic on the last frigid workday morning before Christmas.

Among those people are the Doctor and Rose. The two of them are quite content to stay snuggled up in bed, strategically curled together beneath the blankets.

Yet the universe has other ideas, and what promised to be a quiet day filled with tea and flannel pajamas and lots of cuddling and Christmas movies is promptly interrupted by the sharp ring of Rose's mobile. She's tempted to let it go, and the Doctor pleads for her to do so, but she answers when she sees it's from her mum. As she brings the device to her ear, the Doctor promptly swipes the phone from her hand and opens his mouth to tell Jackie Tyler off when he is surprised not to hear her voice, but Tony's, begging them to get up and come over.

"It's a snow day, Doctor! Mum and Dad said we can go sledding. Will you come? Will you and Rose come?"

The Doctor has never been able to resist Tony (well, either of the Tyler siblings, if he's telling the truth), and he hangs up with a promise that they'll be there in an hour. Rose grins cheekily at him.

"And you wanted me to hang up."

He pushes her onto her back and snogs the smirk right off her face.

* * *

One hot shower, two steaming cups of tea, three layers of clothing, and four pairs of mittens later, the Doctor and Rose are only five minutes late. Not bad, considering they only got out of bed 30 minutes ago and it take at _least _fifteen to get to the Tyler mansion from their flat. Tony is waiting impatiently for them as soon as they walk in the door, fully dressed in his snowsuit.

"Can we _go _already?!"

Rose and the Doctor each take one of his thickly gloved hands and tromp with him through the snow, the Doctor pulling the sled along behind him. It's not a far walk and they reach the top of the hill within minutes. The Doctor pulls the sled right up to the edge of the hill and plops himself down, anchoring the sled with the heels of his boots (not converse; not in this weather, Rose had said) dug into the snow. Rose and Tony scramble on in front of him, Rose sitting between the Doctor's legs and Tony sitting between hers.

"Ready?" he asks, squishing his legs up on the sled alongside the two of them, preparing to push them off.

Rose tightens her legs around Tony and holds onto his waist. Tony, in turn, tucks the Doctor's boots under his arms and holds on to the tops of the toes.

"Ready!"

"Then here we go!" the Doctor gives an almighty shove and, with just a bit of scooting forward on their part, the sled tips over the crest of the hill, sending them flying down the side of it.

Rose shrieks, the Doctor whoops, and Tony giggles uncontrollably as they careen down the hill. Snow flies in their faces, cold and biting and perfect. As they near the bottom, Rose spots a huge bump. She tries to alert the Doctor, mostly by poking him in the thigh (which is less than effective) and they head straight for it. Sure enough, the metal runners of the sled glide right over the bump and as they fly over it, send them airborne.

What happens next is a flurry of snow and limbs and shouts. Rose grabs for Tony, the Doctor grabs for Rose, and the sled crashes, flipping over in the snow. They land with a thud – Rose on her back, the Doctor sprawled on top of her, and Tony safely to the right of them.

She stares up at the Doctor for the second time today, and he grins madly at her. She shakes her head at him and he leans in and kisses her, right there in the snow and the cold and the aftermath of their crash. She closes her eyes for a moment, relishing the solid warmth of his body over hers, a welcome contrast to the cold snow seeping through her jeans, until they are suddenly interrupted.

Tony, having recovered from their rough landing and laughing all the while, jumps on the Doctor's back, causing both he and Rose to grunt in surprise.

"Come on, come on! Don't just lay there! Let's do it again!"

Reluctantly, the Doctor pushes himself off of Rose and onto his feet. Reaching down to offer her a hand up, he winks at her. "We most certainly will do that again… You can bet on it."

Rose doesn't even have time to reply before Tony is tugging on the Doctor's hand, passing him the towrope for the sled.

"Pull me up the hill?" Tony gazes up at him.

"Ohh, all right," the Doctor concedes. "But just this once. Got it?"

Tony nods and clambers onto the sled. The Doctor looks towards Rose, reaching out for her hand, but she grabs the towrope instead. He looks at her quizzically.

"Better with two," she says with a wink of her own.


	21. Snowman

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: More 11/Pond. This has nothing to do with the upcoming Christmas special though. Thinking on it, that might have been a good idea...**

* * *

"No, no, no! It's not a proper snowman if it hasn't got a carrot for a nose," she pouted, crossing her arms and sticking out her hip.

The Doctor pouted right back. "I'll have you know, Amelia Pond, that I am an expert at building snowmen. In fact, I'm the reigning champion of snow sculpture on Frostphorous Prime."

She rolled her eyes. "That's not even a real planet. You're making that up…"

"I am not!" he insisted, indignant. "And I don't know where the carrots and things have gone to. Did you leave them in the TARDIS?"'

The Doctor poked around from the other side of the snowman, where he'd been augmenting the base with extra snow. "I thought you were going to grab them!"

"You said _you _would!"

"Well, if neither of us did, then where are they now…?"

The two of them stopped their squabbling when they heard the doors of the TARDIS squeak open.

"Hey, guys, thanks for leaving me a snack!" Rory smiled, holding a carrot in his mittened hand. "And here I thought you'd gone and left me behind again."

Amy's eyes grew wide for a moment, then narrowed dangerously. "Where did you get those?"

"Th-they were just sitting in the console room…" Rory said hesitantly, catching on to the fury rising in his wife's eyes. "W-were they not for me?"

Exasperated, Amy heaved a sigh and stormed back to the TARDIS, muttering something about how certain someones shouldn't assume everything belongs to them. She slammed the doors shut behind her, leaving the Doctor standing in the snow with a very confused Rory.

"Mind telling me what that was all about?" Rory asked, gesturing towards the TARDIS.

"You just ate Frosty's nose."

Rory looked from the snowman to the carrot in his hand and back to the snowman. He realized then the error of his mistake and winced. "Ohh… How angry do you think she is?"

"I think you should apologize with no less than furious apologies and chocolates. The special ones."

"Right," Rory nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. "I should probably…"

"Yes. Right. Immediately," the Doctor agreed, watching Rory disappear inside the TARDIS as well. He shook his head at his odd little humans and turned back to the snowman, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Well, Frosty, looks like it's just you and me. Let's see if we can't make you just as brilliant without all the carrots and things, eh? You want champion snow sculptor, Amy Pond? You got it!"


	22. Jingle Bells

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

"Rose," the Doctor moaned. "Rose make him stop."

"I can't," she responded, sounding as tired and worn-out as he felt. "I've tried."

"But he's been doing this for _hours, _Rose! I can't take it anymore. I can't even hear myself think anymore!"

"I know! I'm sorry. But you're the one who gave him those dreadful things in the first place!"

"I didn't know that he would wear them nonstop! Or make such a racket. Trust me –no one is sorrier than me."

As if on cue, Tony made another pass through the living room, noisily bounding by them, the shiny gold bells on his felt reindeer antlers jingling incessantly as he sang "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" at the top of his lungs. The Doctor and Rose, having already tried every strategy they could think of to get him to sit still and be quiet for even just a few minutes (which was extensive, considering their experience), simply watched him sweep into the room and disappear the way he came. They were afforded a few moments of quiet, but there was little doubt that Tony would reappear within minutes.

"I suppose he has to tire himself out sometime," Rose sighed wearily.

The Doctor groaned and slouched in his chair "How long until your parents get back?"

"I don't'know. They said they were going to a dinner party." Rose put her face in her hands. "But I'm sure it's not going to be soon enough."

"That's it!" the Doctor exclaimed, folding his arms over his chest and pouting like a child. "We are never babysitting again!"

Rose lifted her face from her hands and looked at him quizzically, one eyebrow raised in question.

"…Well. Maybe not _ever,"_ the Doctor corrected. "Just not on a night when he's had a lot of sugar."

"Or jingle bells," Rose amended.

"Right," the Doctor agreed. "Sugar and jingle bells. A deadly combination if ever I heard one."


	23. Carols

**Disclaimer: Not mine. None of them.**

**A/N: This one spans multi-Doctors and Rose. Something a little different as we draw to a close.**

* * *

It's Christmas, 1869.

They've just met Charles Dickens and escaped death by ghosts. Still high on adrenaline, they walk arm in arm through the streets of London town. Rose beams at the Doctor, still looking at him as if he is the most amazing thing she's ever seen. The Doctor grins back at her, still in disbelief that his girl has chosen to stay with him, even after he'd risked her life twice in as many adventures.

They cross onto a main street, littered with shops and people finishing last minute errands. Carolers huddle together on one of the corners, their voices cutting into the wintry night.

"Doctor!" Rose tugs on the sleeve of his leather jacket, stopping abruptly in the middle of the street. "Listen! Carolers!"

He stops, listening. "Yes, Rose. I hear them. They're lovely. Now can we please get back to the TARDIS?"

"What? Don't you want to stay? I thought we might listen a bit. Just one song? They're pretty good…" she tries.

The Doctor shuffles on his feet. Human holiday traditions are not something he really cares to participate in. "Rose, it's freezing out here and it's been a long night, Please, can we just…?"

"Oh, you're such a Scrooge," she huffs, starting to walk again. Taken aback, the Doctor is the one who stops this time.

"You really think I'm a Scrooge," he asks in disbelief. When she turns towards him, she is grinning, her tongue poking out at him in the most flirtatious of ways.

"No," she laughs. "I was just teasing."

He breathes a sigh of relief as she playfully elbows him in the side. As they walk together back to the TARDIS, he realizes that there's so much about her that he's still figuring out, and that she never ceases to surprise him. First with the Nestene, then at the end of the Earth, and now here, with the Gelth.

Rose Tyler is a mystery – one that he is looking forward to figuring out.

* * *

It's Christmas, 2007.

They've just saved Christmas, the ashes of the Sycorax still falling outside. They've long since moved inside, seeking the warmth of the flat, and it has gotten rather late. Mickey has gone home, Jackie has passed out in the recliner, and the Doctor and Rose sit on opposite ends of the sofa watching the end of _Miracle on 34__th__ Street_.

The film goes to commercial and the Doctor sits up, cocking his head. Rose straightens as well.

"What is it?" she asks warily.

"Listen," he whispers. "You hear that?"

Rose shakes her head. "Hear what?"

"C'mon," he grabs her hand and starts for the door of the flat. Rose is pulled along behind him. He grabs their coats on the way and ushers her outside. "Here now… Listen."

Rose slides her jacket over her shoulders and listens. "I don't hear it."

"No, no, wait," he says, scanning the courtyard below them. "There!" he exclaims, pointing over the railing. "Carolers!"

"Carolers?" Rose looks to where he's pointing and, sure enough, there is a small group of Christmas carolers. If she listens carefully, she can hear the sounds of "Silent Night."

"They're not bad, actually," the Doctor says, grinning at her.

"Really?" Rose looks at him in surprise. You would've never said yes before."

He shrugs gently. "I'm a new man now, Rose."

She quiets at that. "You are, aren't you?"

A silence falls between them, one that the Doctor soon breaks. "So! What do you say? Stay and listen, just for a bit?"

"Okay," Rose nods slowly. "Sure."

"Brilliant!" he beams.

Rose stands next to him at the railing, leaning over and listening to the carolers below. She glances sidelong at him. He's so different, this new Doctor. She has yet to discover all the ways that he has changed, but one thing is still the same, she thinks, as he reaches out and takes her hand.

* * *

It's Christmas 2012

They've just finished dinner at Pete and Jackie's and stepped out for a bit, bundling up in their winter coats to take a walk along the grounds. It's all a bit overwhelming sometimes – dinner and drinks and family and friends and festivities – and they need a few moments to themselves.

This is their first Christmas together, now that he's got warm hands and a single beating heart. He's still getting used to being here in Pete's World. Even though it's been months, he still can't quite believe that he is here, in this new universe, bound to a linear existence without the ability to pop in and out of Time as he pleases. Yet, as he was somewhat shocked to find out, he doesn't really mind it all that much. What he has lost is nothing compared to what he has gained. His life here with Rose is something he never thought he could have, and simply being with her, sharing a life, is adventure enough.

As they walk along the snow-dusted paths arm, he's reminded of another Christmas, another time, another universe when he walked with her at Christmas watching the people and the falling snow. Even if it really hadn't been Christmas in her personal timeline, he still counts it as the first Christmas they spent together. He remembers and grips her hand tighter. She smiles just as she did then.

But something is still missing. He begins to sing softly,

"_Sleigh bells ring – are you listening? In the lane, snow is glistening. A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight, walking in a winter wonderland."_

Rose glances up at him, a smile growing on her face. "What are you going?"

"Caroling," he says simply. "I seem to recall that our Christmases past have had carolers. And seeing a distinct lack of them, I thought I might set the mood myself."

Rose giggles. "Oh, I see. Is this a solo act or are you accepting members in your caroling troupe?"

"Rose Tyler, I would be delighted if you would carol with me."

"Then carry on, good Sir Doctor."

He grins at her and, slipping his arm around her waist, begins to sing once more. She leans into him and together they sing, their voices rising to the stars.


	24. Chestnuts

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: Merry Christmas Eve! Only one more to go after this!**

* * *

Donna finds the Doctor crouched before the fireplace in the TARDIS, puttering with something or other. Probably trying to light a fire. It still amazes her that there is even a fireplace on this crazy spaceship. But there's all manner of things on the TARDIS, so the better question seems to be: why _not _a fireplace?

"Doctor? What are you doing?"

Startled, the Doctor loses his balance and falls back on his bum. "Ouch! Warn me before you creep up on me like that next time, would you?"

"Sorry," she apologizes, taking a seat on the sofa. "But what in blazes are you doing in here?"

"Chestnuts!" he says, holding out a bowl full of nuts, as if that explains everything. Needless to say, it doesn't.

"Chestnuts?" Donna looks at him quizzically. "What've you got chestnuts for?"

"Well, I figured since it is the Christmas season, and we have the tree and the tinsel and the eggnog, it might be appropriate to have some chestnuts as well."

For a moment, Donna stares at him like the alien he is, then it all clicks in her mind. "You thought that since it was Christmas, we should roast chestnuts over an open fire. Is that it?"

"Exactly!" he beams. "Just like the song. Good old Nat King Cole!"

Donna nods slowly, surveying the various equipment he has scattered around him. "You think this is gonna do it?"

"Well, how do you usually roast your chestnuts?"

She blinks at the statement, but decides to let all the off-color innuendoes she _could _make slip past, just this once. "Well, I've never actually done it."

"Really?!" he gapes at her. "Well that's a bit rubbish."

"Oi, Spaceman!" she snaps at him. "What's that supposed to mean."

"It's just that I would have assumed it's something you've done quite a bit, at least once a year."

"Yeah, well, sorry to spoil it for you, but I don't know anyone who's actually ever roasted chestnuts at Christmas time."

"But, but it's in _The Christmas Song,_" he sputters, looking completely baffled.

"I know, I know, but just because it's in the song doesn't mean we all still do it. Sorry to disappoint you."

He shrugs. "Aww, no matter… But we can still do it here! A new Christmas tradition! For both of us!"

Donna laughs at him and his affinity for a holiday he doesn't even celebrate.

"What?" he asks, whipping back around, not sure whether she's laughing _with_ him or _at _him. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," she replies, getting off the couch and coming to kneel beside him. "Now, are we going to roast these things or what?"

"Now you've got it," he grins at her, bumping her shoulder with his. "That's my indomitable Donna Noble."

"Oh, stop it," she nudges right back, trying and failing to hide the smile that's growing on her face.

"Right then," he claps his hands. "Let's get cracking!"

Donna groans. This has the potential to be a long afternoon.


	25. Christmas Movie

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Nothing recognizable, anyway. Just this tiny, tiny piece of fluff. **

* * *

The excitement of Christmas day has come and gone and the Doctor sits on the couch, watching the credits of _It's a Wonderful Life_ roll by. At this moment, he is the only one awake in the whole mansion. Rose dozes, snuggled up into his side, and Tony lays sprawled over the other end of the couch, fast asleep. He'd wanted to stay up and watch the movie with them, but as the night had grown longer, he'd been overcome with sleep. Pete and Jackie have long since given up and gone to bed, muttering something about the fact that they'd been up since five in the morning, thanks to their son.

As the screen fades to black, the Doctor switches off the telly and gently nudges Rose awake.

"Hey," he whispers, "ready to go upstairs?"

She yawns and slowly stretches, stirring herself and getting off the couch. The Doctor stands and scoops Tony into his arms, the boy's blonde head lolling on his shoulder. At eight years old, Tony would surely protest that he doesn't need to be carried, that he's not little anymore, but tonight he is too tired to even complain, rousing up just enough to slip his arms around the Doctor's neck.

Rose follows him as he carries Tony up the stairs and into his bedroom. He places the boy in bed and Rose carefully tucks him in, placing a kiss on his forehead before the two of them creep back out into the hall.

"Today was a big day for him," she whispers as she closes Tony's door with a soft _click_.

"I've never seen anyone get so excited," the Doctor confides, slipping his arm around her waist.

"You know how children are," she leans against him as they walk to the other end of the hall, where their guest room awaits.

"They do bring a certain sort of magic to the holidays, don't they?"

Rose hums in agreement. "Perhaps, maybe, you might like to have Christmas with children of our own one day?"

They've reached the door to their room and the Doctor watches her curiously as he opens it wide, following her inside. Children are something they've discussed very little, and this is the first time she's mentioned them in a long while. He's not sure where she's going with this. "Yeah... yeah, that'd be nice."

"How would you feel about next Christmas…?"

The Doctor looks at her, his eyes growing wide. She can't possibly be hinting at what he thinks she's hinting at, can she? "Rose…? You're not…?"

She grins at him, biting her lower lip. She gives a small nod, reaching out and grabs his hand, placing it low on the flat of her stomach. "There's three of us now. You and me. And the baby."

He looks from their hands to her face and back again. His mind races, his heart pounds in his chest. It's too much, too wonderful, too inexplicable. It's been five years since he took her hand on that beach and promised her his forever in return, but never, n_ever, _has he felt that forever as tangibly as he does in this moment. Their life and future are so much more solid than ever before and, for the first time, he begins to understand the special kind of immortality that can only come from creating a legacy, a family, a life.

Rose waits, watching him to see what his reaction will be. He hardly knows what to do or say right now. With reverence, he drops to his knees before her, slipping his hand to her hip so he can press a kiss to her stomach. Her hands come to rest in his hair, her fingers playing with the strands.

"You're happy then?" she asks, barely a whisper.

He looks up at her, a smile breaking over his face. "Happy? Rose Tyler, I'm thrilled!" He gets to his feet and catches her up in his arms, spinning her around. She clings to him and buries her face in his shoulder.

"I didn't know how to tell you," she says, her voice muffled against his shirt. "I was so nervous."

"Nervous?" He pulls back to see her, cupping her face in his hands."Rose, I am _beyond _happy. Honestly. This is… this is the best Christmas gift you could ever have given me."

"Really?" she asks, a sheen of tears shining in her eyes.

"I mean it," he assures her, leaning in and kissing her properly. Rose holds tightly to him, resting her forehead against his when she breaks the kiss, needing to breathe. She rubs her nose against his and giggles.

"We're having a baby."

"A baby," he repeats, still grinning like an idiot. "I love you, Rose. Always and forever. For every moment of our forever."

"And I love you, my Doctor," she smiles, kissing him yet again.

Part of him still cannot believe that this is real, that this is happening, but that will come later, he supposes. Now is for laughter and celebration and love. They have forever to figure out the rest.

* * *

**A/N: And that's all she wrote, folks! Thank you so much to those of you who stuck through it and read all 25. This was quite the project for me to undertake. I hope you enjoyed them. And Merry Christmas, everyone! :)**


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